Name: Consequence of Love
Summary: Denny is growing healthy every day he spends in Seattle Grace Hospital…every day he spends with Dr. Izzie Stevens. They've flown under the radar until the Nazi catches the act. What are the consequences for falling in love?
Disclaimer: I do not own these characters!
Authors Note: This is going off the few clips from the preview of the next new Grey's Anatomy. As one of the very few open Denny/Izzie shippers, please don't be too harsh if you wish to review. I received quite a number of flames on my first piece centered on this couple. So, without further ado, here it is.
Dr. Izzie Stevens leaned on the white plaster wall, one arm crossed over her chest, supporting the counterpart. Her nails were poised at her lips, brushing the velvet touch. Her cheeks, normally flawlessly applied, were stained with arid tears. Lingering drops dribbled down, briefly tasting the salt of the sorrow. She stared at the hospital bed in front of her, the rhythmic beeping of the monitoring machines surrounding the patient, breathing life into his collapsing heart, taunting her every nerve. Two hours ago, she was tucked away in a corner, praying every second to God that this patient would not be reduced to a superstition.
Izzie sighed and raised her eyes towards the ceiling, feeling a wave of relief wash over her. Denny Duquette groaned, stirring under the weight of wearing drugs. He stretched his scruffy face, fluttering open his eyes in hope of finding the woman he had inevitably fallen in love with standing in the room. He wasn't disappointed. Izzie noticed his movement and rushed to wipe away any littered tears; she wouldn't let him see her cry. She gently talked about the success of his surgery and the hospital gossip that had died away now that it was past midnight, but he only wanted to know one thing.
"Why are you crying?" Denny asked, studying her facial expression.
Izzie smiled and stalked over to him. She entwined his hand in hers, sitting on the edge of the bed. "I wasn't crying." she lied.
Denny tilted his head, examining her more. "Don't lie to me, Izzie."
Izzie's bottom lip trembled. She looked at their conjoined hands, refusing to look him as the next line slipped between her lips. "I can't fall for a patient."
Denny's signature grin, flashing his fitted teeth, spread across his lips. He squeezed her hand. "Good luck with that." he bid.
Izzie giggled, another tear falling from the corner of her eye. She caressed Denny's cheek, stroking the rough facial hairs, and smiled slightly when he leaned into the touch. Their first kiss was feathery, a light brush, a brief skin to skin encounter. She hovered over close to him for a split second after the kiss and watched his blissful reaction. Her own actions surprised her, but the conclusion was unavoidable; she had fallen for Denny Duquette.
The scene inside the box confinement of surgical debris and sympathetic words generally passed immediately halted Dr. Miranda Bailey or the Nazi as her colleagues affectionately called her. The petite resident stopped in her tracks, her legs previously carrying her to another patient malfunctioning mid-step. The clipboard in her hand limply fell to her side as the pen loosened in her grip. She stood in the center of the chaos and watched from a fragmented window one of her interns conversing rather tenderly with a patient—a heart transplant nonetheless.
Had it been her imagination or had Dr. Stevens just kissed the man? Dr. Bailey inched closer to the window and continued her spying. Denny lifted his hand and wiped away tears leaking from Izzie's eyes. The touch was tender, expressing a gentle gesture most men lacked in such times of vulnerability. Dr. Bailey narrowed her eyes; she knew the path Izzie was about the travel. Dr. Bailey felt satisfied with the oath that she made herself to keep her eye out, to watch Izzie Stevens' every movement around that man.
Dr. Bailey watched Izzie spend her time with Denny over the next several days, but she wasn't granted with any evidence besides that one kiss that the ruled were being broken and a doctor was pursuing a romantic relationship with a patient. When the opportunity presented itself, she interrogated the other interns, especially her closest three friends, about the pair's relationship. Many knew nothing or chose not to reveal secrets, in a couple cases. It appeared the affair was clandestine.
She collapsed against the white counter of the nurses station, crushing her cheek into her fisted knuckle, and roved over the infinite paperwork clipped to the file she was assigned to review. Thirty-eight-year-old woman, no history of illness, no recorded family genes…so why would a healthy woman have level three lung cancer? She rolled her eyes, closing the file, and dropped her forehead to her hands. Her body was exhausted from the twenty-eight hour shift; she wanted to go home to her husband and baby and sleep. But that wasn't happening.
Her eyes found the end of the hall and for a moment she considered following the peppy blonde down the hall. Out of the corner of her eye she saw Dr. Alex Karev approach the station. He stood next to her and wrote on the papers in his hand, glancing over a CT scan. Dr. Bailey glanced over and observed him. The pompous man ground his teeth and looked over, feeling a set of eyes on him.
"Good evening Dr. Bailey." he greeted his superior.
Dr. Bailey flashed a fake smile. She knew this man's reputation, centrally from Dr. Burke, for straightforward honesty, tough love at its best, and she wasn't impressed with his attempts at playing nice. She straightened; noticing his eyes had left her and was trailing Izzie's swaying body down the hall. A growl rolled out of his throat.
"Tell me, Dr. Karev…" she began, purposely drawling out to tighten his attention. "Can you tell me anything about Dr. Stevens relationship with her heart transplant patient?"
Alex swallowed. Further down the hall, descending rapidly, Izzie rounded the last corner, bursting into a labyrinth of medical recovery. She smiled at a couple familiar patients as she entered Denny's room. She smiled, beginning to talk happily, then realized the man of the hour was missing. The room, the bed covers thrown back and the suitcase in the corner open, was empty. Izzie inched further into the room, looking around to recover the mystery man.
"Denny?" she said as she closed the door to the room. The blinds clanked against the glass.
An abrupt noise made her jump. The sound of a toilet flushing reverberated from the private bathroom on one side of the room. Her hand covered her heart and she smiled, heaving a sigh of relief, when Denny stepped out of the bathroom. She curled a stray lock of hair behind her hair and she asked him what he was doing on his feet. As a response, he shrugged.
He moved closer. Her eyes fell downward and she realized he no longer adorned his paper hospital gown but tasteful clothing. He tugged at the cuffs of his trimmed dress shirt, covering the watch clung to his wrist. He had certain elegance to him suddenly. She hooked her hands on her hip. "Well, aren't you handsome. What's the occasion?"
"Life, Izzie." he answered nonchalantly. He winked.
Izzie scrunched her lips in a sarcastic question, turning in a semi-circle as Denny brushed past her to the suitcase balanced on the chair. He picked up the sweater he had watched her delicate fingers intricately weave, looping and tweezing the yards on her needle, and ran his fingers over the fabric. The ends of his lips twisted.
"Life, huh? What about life?" Izzie continued.
Denny ignored the question for the moment, allowing her time to ponder her own question, and folded the sweater. He set it in the suitcase and turned back to Izzie, looping a finger around a belt loop of his pants.
"Life is too precious to waste every day." he said simply.
Izzie felt cold dread come over her, stringing down her spine. A frown replaced her smile. "You're not leaving, are you?"
Denny smirked. "No." He paused. "I'm taking you to lunch."
Izzie stared at him for a minute, half a smile pried on her lips. She couldn't read his expression. He looked sincere. Then, without hesitation, Denny closed the gap in between them and embraced her tightly. She wrapped her arms around his neck and buried her face in his shoulder. She breathed in; he smelled good. Why did being in his arms feel so right? She closed her eyes and relaxed in the hug, listening as he whispered in her ear. She felt protected and warm with him, a sensation that was alien for a once mother and lingerie model turned surgeon.
The door opened with a creak, stopping instantly. Izzie opened her eyes and found herself staring at Dr. Bailey, her body leaned into the room, her mouth open. She was mid-word. Izzie abruptly stepped out of Denny's arms and smoothed out her clothing, bowing her head like a sheepish child. Denny turned around, seeing her change, and saw Dr. Bailey. He tried to smile. Izzie froze.
"Dr. Stevens, can I see you outside, please." Dr. Bailey ordered in a stern tone that signaled nothing good.
Before Izzie could say anything, Denny jumped in. "Dr. Bailey, she did nothing wrong. I hugged her, I instigated it."
"Mr. Duquette, I'd like to speak to Dr. Stevens. I would appreciate it if you stayed out of this." Dr. Bailey countered.
Izzie was released from her trance and looked up at her resident. She didn't move. "I'd feel more comfortable talking here."
"I'm sure you would,"—Dr. Bailey's eyes shot to Denny—"but I would rather not."
"Dr. Bailey—" Izzie began.
Dr. Bailey slammed the door shut, causing both captured adults to flinch, and firmly stared at them, hands high on her hip. Her rage was directed at Izzie. "What are you thinking, Stevens? You know the rules and right now you're breaking them. You are never to get romantically involved with a patient. You never attached. "
"Ma'am—" Denny jumped.
Dr. Bailey held up a finger, silencing him. "I'm not speaking to you. More to the fact, you're part of this charade. Stevens, what are you doing? If you were to get caught by the Chief, I doubt he would question you as I am doing right now. There are conequences, Stevens."
Izzie wavered in defending herself. It was as if she had the words on her tongue, but they weren't coming out. She was well aware of eyes on her; they waited. Her eyes moved to Dr. Bailey while her head stayed tucked in. "I'll take my chances."
Dr. Bailey stared at Izzie, hard. What was she getting at? "Are you trying to tell me you would risk what you've earned to be with this man?"
Izzie closed her eyes, fighting the urge to yell. "Yes." she said in a low voice.
"Why?" It was a demand.
"Because I love him!" Izzie exclaimed.
Her eyes widened and her mouth went dry. Dr. Bailey stood back, at loss for words. Had she heard that right? She shook her head and exited the room, slamming the door again as she departed. An awkward silence enveloped Izzie and Denny for both were unsure of how to approach the confession that was just said. Denny opened his mouth to say something, but no words proceeded.
Izzie slowly turned to him and folded her hands together. "It's true. I love you."
Denny hung his head, dropping his arms at his side for a second, then looked back at her. God was she gorgeous. He reached her in one stride. He cupped her face, tangling his fingers in her hair, and kissed her. He drew back slightly and stared at her, taking in her expression of bliss as her eyes swayed inside closed eyelids and her lips remained parted. He whispered her name and she opened her eyes, brown meeting its mate.
He smiled softly, not moving. "I love you too." he breathed.
Izzie smiled, her lips quivering as tears rimmed her eyes again. Her lips met his for the third time.